Glock 17
by The Weaver Atropos
Summary: What really happened when Heero rescued Duo from his prison cell in the colonies?


**Glock 17**  
><em>The Weaver Atropos<br>_December 10, 2011  
>Comments: Something of a drabble. Written primarily from Duo's point of view. I got to wondering how the interaction between Heero and Duo might've gone down during Episode 19. Not much shounen aiyaoi by way of text (or subtext), but an interesting exploration nonetheless. Obviously, some of the dialogue has been changed.

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><p>For a moment, staring down the barrel of that gun, he thought he might shit himself.<p>

Had it been anyone else, maybe he might have mustered up enough masochism to spur them on – to jokingly poke at their humanity or manhood. But it was _him_, and God knows Duo was already semi-petrified of him. Well, of his eyes, at the very least.

At the moment they were dark and tumultuous, broodily accusing him of a treason he hadn't been aware he had committed. It wasn't as though he had gotten captured on purpose. The damn fool probably thought he was a mole, intentionally trying to get them all killed and captured. Wasn't the fucking black eye enough indication that he hadn't submitted to OZ of his own accord?

Nevermind the broken ribs and twisted ankle.

For a second, staring into those deep Prussian eyes, Duo wondered if Heero caught the parallels between this and their initial meeting. Back then, he was the one holding the barrel of his glinting Beretta straight at Heero. Even with Relena squealing and shrieking like the princess that she was, he had aimed dead-center between Heero's eyes. In hindsight, he might have killed them both if Deathscythe had surfaced any sooner.

But holy fuck, he wasn't even sure _what_ he was supposed to do.

They were technically allies, insofar as the colonies were concerned, but Heero had a morose way of going AWOL whenever he felt like it. He was accountable to no one, and as far as he knew, Heero had gotten orders from the colonies to have him finished.

What a fucking dignified way to go.

For a moment, he thought he might've seen the very edges of the boy's lips quirk up. Was he…_amused?_

'_Sick bastard.'_

Or maybe…was this a rescue?

Duo straightened despite himself, squaring his shoulders as best he could given his injuries, and gathered up the false courage he had lacked when the brown-haired youth had first stepped into his cell. "Anyone see you?"

The gun's position didn't change, but the youth managed to raise a brow at his question. "You were careless." The voice was deadpan.

"Those mobile dolls are something else."

Heero released the safety on his Glock.

"Hey! You're really gonna shoot me!"

Dark blue eyes stared directly into his, seemingly asking him why the hell he had thought otherwise. Well, fuck. He didn't really have an answer to that. Maybe he had thought the guy owed him one. It was thanks to his partly-scavenged Gundam that Wing had been able to go on its next mission.

But that had been _months _ago. It had been a long time since he had seen the other man.

"Yeah, okay. Shoot me already. If I'm gonna die, I guess it'd be appropriate for you to be the one to do it. I hope you get some fucking brain goo on your face for the trouble, though."

"If that's what you really want."

Duo wasn't sure _how_ he was supposed to respond to that, but he didn't have to as Heero had turned around abruptly and tossed him the Glock without a second thought.

The fucker hadn't even switched of the safety.

"You're right hand is fine, right?"

Duo transferred the pistol carefully to his left hand and flexed the right one to assess for dexterity. It was pretty good. Not too bad considering the OZ soldiers that had tried repeatedly to stomp it into bits. Fuck dignity. When it came to self preservation he had tucked it carefully under his body and made sure it was unaffected. "Yeah."

The braided man watched as Heero bent to his knee and examined the soldier he had unceremoniously dumped into the room, rummaging about for anything that might be useful. Duo didn't have to ask. Heero didn't work in half-assed ways. The man had to be as dead as a doornail.

"How are we getting out of here?" Duo gathered his bearing and used the wall behind him to stand to his feet. He winced a little when the action jostled his broken rib.

"I don't know," Heero didn't look the least preoccupied, "…I came here to kill you, not to bail you out."

"Heart-warming."

The man didn't even spare him a glance. He assessed the fallen soldier's automatic rifle for defects in handling. "How'd you catch this one?"

"Gas. We have a good forty minutes before he wakes up."

Oh. A surprise. Heero Yuy wasn't completely ruthless.

"You weren't really going to shoot me were you?"

The youth glanced at him deliberately, staring at him intently for a few moments, "…I think I was."

At least he was honest.

"You're injured."

Duo wasn't sure if the voice was concerned, annoyed, or sympathetic. "Looks worse than it is." Duo puffed out his chest and tried to hold in the wince that followed.

"Broken rib?" Heero had approached, and again, in a mocking parallel of the time Duo had rescued him from the hospital, it was the shorter, brown-haired man who was propping him up, his arm wound tight around his waist, fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans. For a moment, he was surprised at his strength.

"Yeah. Some ensign trying to assert himself. Fucking heels, I swear. Treize is a fucking maniac with those uniforms."

Heero grunted his assent, glancing around within the confines of the prison, before digging into his pocket. He wore an automatic rifle slung across his left shoulder, and cradled a small detonator in his left hand. "I'm trusting you with cover. I've seen you shoot."

"Got it, cap'n."

The youth snorted, Prussian eyes locking momentarily with his, before going to work on the metal bars that held them in. It didn't take much force to pry them open, and just as soon as they had stepped into the hallway, Heero detonated the device and they were surrounded by a flurry of explosions, ringing alarms, and the thundering steps of foot-soldiers.

Duo glanced at Heero in disbelief, wondering what the fuck the man had been thinking, causing all that commotion. "I didn't get myself caught," was all he offered by way of apology – not that it was much of an apology – before diving into a secluded alcove. The space was tight, and the pressure of having Heero pressed up so close to him was uncomfortable. It wasn't as though it weren't already hard to breathe.

One would think, given their confines, that the bastard might act like a real person and politely look away or into his neck or stare at some infinite point beyond his face.

But no. Heero Yuy was staring intently at the very depths of his own cobalt eyes, analyzing every flicker of a thought Duo had ever had. In his life. It might've made him more uncomfortable if it weren't for the fact that the butt of the rifle was pressed up squarely against his injured rib. Fuck it, maybe the bastard had a sadistic streak in him, too.

"Quatre's missing," Heero said, still staring, seemingly not blinking and waiting to assess his reaction to the information he had revealed.

And it was Duo's turn to blink, because for the first time, he realized he might've detected a faint slant to the very outer edges of Heero's eyes. Instinctively, his right hand darted out – his only good hand, the hand that was clenching his rescuer's Glock – and he saw the flicker of surprise that flashed over Heero's face. He felt the youth shift minutely, and within seconds, the man's hand was squarely over his, effectively quelling whatever attempt at violence he might have tried. But he hadn't wanted to try anything. Gently, he pushed a little at Heero's bangs – his hand still held within the man's – and leaned forward to examine the youth's eyes a little better.

And it was Heero's turn to shit his pants, he supposed, the man looked so alarmed.

"Are you…asian?" and the dark-haired man blinked at his question, body arched away from him, tufts of wild-unruly hair peeking from the safety of their shadowy hiding place, looking for all the world like Duo had just shot him in the foot.

There was silence as the other man seemed to gather himself. "I…I don't know. I suppose."

And it was a surprising revelation. Maybe the first real truth Heero had revealed.

He licked at his lips and glanced uncertainly at the gun pressed against his temple, it's body cool against his face, the very tips of Duo's fingers pressing into his cheeks. He made no attempt to move his hand.

Suddenly, Duo realized that this might very be the first time anyone had gotten that close to putting a gun to the man's face. He dropped his hand quickly, and noted a quick release of tension in Heero's jaw. It was so minute, he might have missed it any other day, but he was close enough where the detail didn't escape him.

Heero Yuy had a tell. Who would have thought?

"There's a station past that corner and down the hallway. I want to check some things before we leave. The blueprints I got for this job weren't thorough."

Duo nodded, carefully switching of the safety.

Heero pulled away from him, blending remarkably into the shadows, and Duo watched him bring a finger to his lips in a silent "shh" before disappearing completely from his range of vision.

Fuck. He was good at that. That guard hadn't had a chance. Heero moved like the fucking _wind_. His footsteps were near soundless, nevermind his aim. Duo doubted Heero had missed a target in _years_.

Somehow, for whatever reason, Duo had always assumed the man was taller. Maybe it was his personality. He'd been surprised just now, having Heero pressed up against him. The man was shorter than he was, absolute coiled muscle and strength, but surprisingly small. He supposed that could only add to his skill.

"Okay."

Holy fuck.

"That was fast."

Fucker almost gave him a heart attack.

"You ready?"

Duo glanced at him again, intrigued by the man's disregard for normal conventions – by the way he would stare unabashedly into his eyes without thought or concern as to what he might think. "What's the plan?"

"You worry about shooting."

Bastard.

He thought he might've caught a smirk.

"I found a place for us, near here. It'll do for a few weeks. Frankly, I'm more worried about Quatre."

"Oh?" Duo straightened a little, feeling Heero pulling him close again, working his arm about his middle again, and shifting him until he was bearing the brunt of his weight.

"I'm reminded of something Dr. J mentioned to me."  
>"Dekim Barton?"<p>

Heero was surprised by the mention of the name, but shook his head minutely. "No, that's not it."

Duo frowned. What else could it be?

"The path should be mostly clear, but there'll be a few outpost soldiers along the way," the man's grip on his hip tightened, and Duo was surprised by the warmth of Heero's torso. Sometimes, it was easy to forget they were both human. "Once we're out, I'll check your ribs."

Duo nodded, and with a final look into his eyes, they fell into the brightly lit corridors, running.


End file.
